


it's not my fault you don't like girls

by willow_lark



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anyways, Castle Byers (Stranger Things), Compulsory Heterosexuality, Gay Panic, Gay Will Byers, Introspection, M/M, Mike Wheeler Being an Asshole, Not Canon Compliant, POV Will Byers, Referenced/Implied Homophobia, Speculation, Will Byers Has Powers, a different take on what could have happened, based on the trailer, i did go back and add a few bits though, i just wasn't sure how to tag that, love him but yikes, namely "it's not my fault you don't like girls", these tags are a mess, will's dance partner and the original character are the same person, written before season 3 came out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:33:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29698527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willow_lark/pseuds/willow_lark
Summary: Speculation/an alternate take on season three.Will's been growing apart from his friends all summer. Mike and Lucas are preoccupied with their girlfriends, and Dustin's away at camp. The last things he needs are some girl to approach him at the mall for a date, ultimately resulting in a heartbreaking argument with his best friend.Unfortunately, the universe doesn't care what he needs.
Relationships: Will Byers & Mike Wheeler, Will Byers & Mike Wheeler & Lucas Sinclair, Will Byers & Original Female Character, Will Byers & Will Byer's Snow Ball Dancing Partner (Stranger Things), Will Byers/Mike Wheeler
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	it's not my fault you don't like girls

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so like I said in the tags this was written entirely based off of the first Stranger Things 3 trailer. It's not canon compliant, but it's what I thought could happen based off the trailer.

Will didn’t know why they’d decided to come to the mall. They weren’t doing anything here that they hadn’t been in Mike’s basement—lounging on a bench, bored out of their freaking minds. Mike shifted next to him, and another pebble added to the heaviness in his stomach. At least in Mike’s basement, Will had tried to make things interesting. He had spent ages planning his own D&D campaign, and even dressed up to DM it. Mike and Lucas had gotten bored within half an hour; Will tried to ignore how much that stung. He was also trying to ignore the pangs of embarrassment resulting from being the only one dressed up. Mike had jumped at Lucas’s idea of going to the mall. So here they were, doing nothing. Until—

A girl approached the three of them. A year ago this would have been an unthinkable achievement, but with Mike and Lucas sucking face with El and Max respectively, the novelty of girls had faded. When it came to those two, at least. All others were strange and intimidating. That was saying something, as El could implode people’s brains with a thought and Max was not afraid to get into fistfights on the regular.

This girl was neither of them, however. It was Molly Surton, who Will knew from both History and Art class. She’d also asked him to dance at every school dance the previous year. And she had her eyes trained on Will.

“Uh, hey, Will.” She bit her lip, and Will regarded her warily, afraid of where this might be going. “Do—d’you want to go get ice cream? With me?”

Will surveyed the area for a gaggle of laughing, preening girls watching for his reaction. There was no way she hadn’t not done that on a dare. But there were no giggling girls to be found.

Both Lucas and Mike were staring at him with wide, shocked eyes. Will agreed with them. He made eye contact with Mike, who gave a slight jerk of the head. Will received his message loud and clear: Are you insane? Say yes! He couldn’t stay in shock any longer. Molly was still waiting for an answer.

Ah, fuck.

“I—Sure,” said Will, not knowing what else to do. He stood, uneasy, thanking God he had a few dollars in his pocket. Half of it was change, though: Mom made him carry it around in case he needed to use a pay phone. 

“If our bikes are gone you can go back to my house. We’ll probably get there sooner or later,” said Mike, and Will nodded, and set off with Molly.

She smiled at him, and he did his best to smile back, although he thought he might throw up. Calm down, he told himself. It’s not like I’m marrying her. Who married their middle school girlfriend, anyway? (Mike, probably.) Was Molly his girlfriend? (Shit, he’d have to buy her ice cream.) What if he didn’t have enough money? The pebbles that had stacked up in his stomach turned into boulders. What if he weirded her out and she never spoke to him again? That might be desirable. What if she wanted his phone number? Oh, this was going to be awful. 

Will realized Molly had asked him a question. “Huh?”

“Have you drawn anything cool lately?” She seemed to be inching closer and closer to Will with every step. Soon he’d be holding her hand. Will hoped it was his imagination.

“Huh?”

“Mr. Zolinsky always displays the stuff you draw in Art class up on his wall. You’re the best drawer there is. I can’t even draw a decent-looking stick figure.”

Will had seen her work—on his observation, she seemed to thrive when it came to painting. He didn’t understand why she didn’t mention it, and then realized: he was supposed to be complimenting her back.

“I like your watercolors, though,” said Will. They’d been seated at the same table that unit, and he’d gotten a good look. That one you did of the sunset was amazing.” With the fog in his brain, he could barely remember what it looked like. Molly gave him a bashful grin.

By then, they had arrived at Scoops Ahoy. Will craned his neck to find Steve, who was dutifully doling out vanilla to a toddler. The child’s mother hustled him away, and Will and Molly stepped up to the counter. Steve raised an eyebrow in disbelief and/or amusement. But Will’s face must have betrayed his misery, because Steve gave him a reassuring smile.

“Ahoy,” he said, also looking miserable. “What can I get ya?”

Every time Will saw Steve at work in his uniform and hat, he wanted to crack up. “Hey, Steve.”

Ordering and getting their ice cream went without a hitch. Will smoothly offered to pay for Molly, and once they’d gotten their cones (strawberry for Will, chocolate for Molly) they sat down at one of the little tables near the parlor.

How did one eat his ice cream as fast as possible without revealing to his date how much he wanted to get out of there at top speed?

To Will’s relief, Molly filled the space with idle chatter. All Will had to do was nod, ask a prompting question here and there, “yeah,” and “uh-huh” at the right places. The only downside was that she seemed to go on forever about everything. Friends, clothes, shopping, the mall, the pool . . . . He made himself take a deep breath. He was going to get out of this alive.

“Thanks for buying me ice cream, Will,” said Molly. “Can I call you later? Tomorrow, maybe?”

Shit. Will reached for the stack of napkins Steve had shoved at him. Molly slid a pen across the table. Dang—she came prepared. Will scrawled out his phone number, folded it back up, and gave it to her. “Sounds good.”

And thus Will left Scoops Ahoy with his dignity still intact. He checked the bike racks—Mike and Lucas had gone. Will unlocked his bike, and rode back to Maple Street. By then it was nearly dinner time. Lucas was leaving as he came in, but Will stayed for another awkward meal with the Wheeler family. No one ever spoke about it, but it didn’t seem like Mr and Mrs. Wheeler liked each other very much. As a result, the dinner table was thick with tension. Nancy gave Will a tight grin, and Mrs. Wheeler asked how everyone’s day was, but besides that there was little conversation.

By the time Will was ready to leave, it was raining cats and dogs. Mike came to see him out the door, and winced when he stuck his hand out from under the garage roof.

“How was your date?” he asked, voice teasing.

“I dunno.” Will shrugged. “How are dates supposed to go? Wait, no, don’t answer that. I don’t need another play-by-play of your latest makeout session with El.” The last—and only—time Mike had described it to him, Will had felt this indescribable heavy sadness settle over him. “She asked for my number.”

“Did you give it to her?”

Will sighed, and gnawed on the inside of his cheek.

“Hey, what’s up with you? You’re acting super off.” Mike adopted a look of concern. “Is it flashbacks again?”

“Keep your voice down,” Will hissed. But who was going to hear him? The rain and thunder blocked out every other sound. “It’s just—I wish we all hung out as a group more. We never do that anymore. You and El and Lucas and Max see each other on your double dates or whatever, and Dustin’s out with Steve. Why can’t we all play D&D sometimes like we used to? I liked that.” Surely Mike would understand.

But he was rolling his eyes. “Oh my God, Will. We’re not kids anymore. I mean, what did you think? We’re just gonna sit in my basement all day, play games for the rest of our lives? Grow up.”

Grow up? Will was more grown up than any of them. His friends were all trying to be more mature out of their own free will. Will had had maturity, as well as the trauma and pain and responsibility that came with it, thrust upon him without a choice. But he pushed those resentments down.  
“I don’t see why everything has to revolve around dating.”

“Well, you have Molly now! Ask her out, and it can be a triple date. Why don’t you do that? Didn’t she ask you to dance at both the Snow Ball and Spring Fling?”

Because Will thought boys were a whole lot more attractive than girls, and he wasn’t supposed to think so. Because when he compared boys to girls in his mind, he immediately knew which gender he’d like to take out on a date. It wasn’t the one who would get him a happy ever after at the end of the cul-de-sac with a picket fence and two point five kids.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

Mike threw his hands in the air. “Why not? Come on, Will.”

Will really wasn’t, but fine. “Leave me alone.”

“Seriously? Why are you so upset about it? It’s not my fault you don’t like girls!”

Will couldn’t breathe.

_It’s not my fault you don’t like girls._

Out of all the people who had picked that out as one of Will’s shortcomings and used it against him, he had never thought that Mike would be among them.

And the worst part—if Will really considered it, was that it was entirely Mike’s fault.

“Look, I’m not trying to be a jerk, okay?” said Mike, but the damage was done. Will shot something back, and before he knew it was pedaling down the street.  
He wasn’t sure when the rain soaking him through began to mix with his tears. Will just pushed his bangs out of his eyes and pedaled even harder. Soon enough, he was nearing home. There were lights in the windows, but Will threw down his bike and sprinted off into the woods. 

The trees didn’t offer much in the way of cover, but Will kept stumbling until he came to Castle Byers. He raised the flap and ducked inside. God, everything was sopping. But at least here he was safe. 

Will reached for the battery-powered lamp on a small table and it flickered on, illuminating the area. Propped up against it were two photos of Will and the rest of the original Party. The first one, which Will had framed with popsicle sticks ever so carefully years ago, was from sixth grade when they won the science fair; the second was from last Halloween.

Could Will even call them his friends anymore? He was starting to always dread hanging out with them instead of being excited for it. That had been obvious today when he showed up at Mike’s house. El came over a lot with Hopper, and even though he enjoyed seeing her, Will felt detached from her as well. Max took no shit from him and understood the value of being together but not talking, but he never saw her. The same with Dustin, who was always running after Steve.

Mom had mentioned wanting to move to Cincinnati. The mall was taking away business from Melvald’s, and she might be getting laid off. The change would be good, she’d said. She could get a new job, and the whole family could have a fresh start far away from everything they’d been through. Will had protested, but now he was wondering if moving would really be so bad. Maybe people were nicer in Cincinnati.

Will looked at the photos again, and reached under the Ghostbusters picture where he hid his most dangerous possession.

At first glance it was an innocent piece of paper—just a name doodled over and over. Typical of any middle schooler with a crush. He didn’t remember when he made it—it must have been in the past year, or maybe a little longer than that. The realization had happened here, in Castle Byers. Will had spent an hour and a half bouncing back and forth between fear, shame, and blissful daydreaming. But it was Will’s most dangerous possession.

Mike’s name had been scrawled across it half a dozen times.

His face crumpled and he let out a choked sob. Oh, he was so stupid. His crush was stupid, and if Will didn’t repress it soon he’d end up with the gay plague. Mike didn’t even like him as a friend. He was ashamed of Will: his eye rolls and exasperation made that clear. 

Will crumpled the paper in his fist and let it fall to the wet ground. The lamp seemed to sense his distress: it was flickering so rapidly the twelve-year-old part of Will’s brain reacted in a panic: _Demogorgon. Run!_

_No,_ Will responded. _It’s me who’s making it do that._

The overwhelming despair he’d been trying to keep down bubbled up and erupted in a scream. Will threw himself at the branches that held up Castle Byers, kicking and yelling. The lamp popped and exploded, sending crackles of electricity throughout the air. They must have hit Will, but he didn’t feel a thing.

When he opened his eyes, Castle Byers was a heap of rubble on the ground.

Will brought his hand to his nose to wipe away the stream of blood.


End file.
